The Monsters that We Fight
by CrossRow
Summary: Sometimes you have to stare into the abyss to face your demons. Sometimes you become the very thing that you fight if you don't have someone to help you lift yourself back up from the darkness. (Bruce & Alfred one shot.)


**The Monsters that We Fight**

**All Characters Belong to Christopher Nolan and DC Comics**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.**

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Heavy hazel eyes gazed down at the graphite cowl as his hand rose the mask to chest level. He stood motionless staring at his empty slits of his true face. Lines of sweat glazed his sculpted pecks as the overwhelming desire to transform into the Bat was taking hold. He tried to suppress the burning rage that gushed through his veins.

Bruce slammed his eyes as he fought the endless battle that surged into the depths of his split soul of light and darkness. Shadows etched his jagged cheeks as he felt the wrathful creature he created in Crime Alley aching to for the freedom it carved.

He became entranced with the power he felt. The power he attained from the hearts and minds of Gotham. The lonesome burden he carried on his shoulders each night he pulled on the cowl. This was madness . A nightmare that no man should never endure in his living years.

Bruce shifted his serve eyes to the rocky shafts of the cave. His sanctuary where he embraced the loneliness. Bats rattled above the ceiling as they sense a change forming into the brisk air.

His heart was pumping inside the wall of his chest as inhaled his guilt and anger, allowing the creature to escape his weary shell.

For years he fought the insane devils of human flesh. Fought the self destruction of his own will when he meet the challenge to decide life or death. He was no executioner. Just a soldier in the endless battle of good and evil.

Body was covered with the wounds of he endured from blades, crowbars and bullets. The haunting laughter of the debased psychopath ravaged his mind as the crimson stained lips of the monster who shared a dance with his victims in the pale moonlight flashed before his eyes.

_"To them you're just a freak!"_ The venomous words bellowed in the darkness._ "Like me!"_

Bruce narrowed his piercing gaze to his hands and saw the stains of blood. The drops of victims he failed to save. Dead cops , lawyers and average citizens . All in a mixture of liquid mortality. "I have enough blood on my hands." He rephrased. "Now I see know what I have to become to stop the monsters."

Hands began to shake as he felt the unsettled spirit start to grin inwardly. Before he could challenge a fight the creature broke out. Cowl dropped to the cement ground as he growled deeply into the silence. Ears grew into large pointy bat ears.

He was becoming what he feared the most. The symbol of dread that engulfed the criminal mind when their eyes stared at the dark face of judgment.

Bruce looked at his reflection in the glass of his armory. He saw the truth staring into his face. For years he fought the monsters in the shadows but he wasn't careful enough to allow himself to become one.

He fell to his knees. Fists slammed into the ground as lips parted to release a scream. "No, this is not real. I am not a monster. I am made of flesh and blood I can be destroyed!" He looked at the cowl in front of him.

Bruce grabbed the cowl. His teeth gritted, he arose to his feet as he heard his butler's voice. He broke away from the delusion.

"Master Wayne, is everything alright ?" Alfred asked.

There was silence between them.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Wayne?" Alfred answered.

Bruce turned to his butler with a desperate look in his eyes. "Have I inspired good to the people of death or madness?" He paused. "Or am I just a vindictive monster that hunts in the shadows?"

"You have inspired good. You have saved countless lives and endured so much during these years. You must not lose hope in what you believe in, Master Wayne. Without the Batman Gotham would become a city driven by madness and death."

He placed his aged spotted hand on Bruce's tensed shoulder. "Gotham would be lost without its hero."

Bruce looked up at him. "I'm not a hero, Alfred." He straightened himself and turned to gaze at his reflection, the bat ears vanished. "I can take the fall, endure the chase and conceal the truth. That is what I can be." He exhaled and pulled on his torso chest armor. "I can become a monster to the people of Gotham." He finished suiting up and clipped his belt into place."I am whatever they need me to be."

Alfred handed him the cowl. Bruce pulled it over his sharp feature face.

"To me," The butler affirmed. "You will always be Bruce Wayne. No matter what you believe yourself to be."

Batman nodded. "I am what I need to be." He rasped and vanished into the shadows of the cave like looming wraith.

Alfred stood on the slate platform with a heavy heart not knowing who would return to the cavern. The man he raised from boyhood or the monster he feared that his young master would become if he fell into the abyss.

All he could do was wait and pray for a safe return of the Dark Knight.


End file.
